


Tick Tick Away

by VirtualDream



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strangulation, unintentional violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22228771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirtualDream/pseuds/VirtualDream
Summary: They were no strangers to nightmares.
Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Tick Tick Away

He reached out as far as he could but his fingertips only ever brushed against the side of the digital alarm clock. Try as he might, he was unable to get a proper hold on it, even worse; he only managed to push the damned thing farther away. It was his own fault, he thought bitterly, he had been the one to place it on the far end of the nightstand after he and Simon had knocked down one too many of its predecessors.

_“We’ll just get a really old one.” Simon had said with a shrug after they had finished picking up the remnants of their latest victim. “So it won’t be a problem if we break the bloody thing again.”_

Gary glanced up at Simon, who’s lips were pulled into a vicious snarl, eyes filled with unadulterated hatred – unblinking, unseeing. It was a nightmare, no, more than that. A hallucination. At least, Gary hoped it was.

He could not remember having done anything that would make Simon feel like he had to get up in the middle of the night to try and strangle him.

He wondered, who Simon thought he was.

“S-Simon- “, Gary managed to rasp out, feeling Simon’s fingers tighten around his throat. “ _Wake_ _up_ \- “

But his pleas fell onto deaf ears.

_I’m gonna die._

For a moment, Gary was unsure whether the black spots in his vision came from that sudden realization or the lack of oxygen in his blood.

It was not the first time Gary had thought – had been absolutely convinced – that he was going to bite the dust. Their line of work was dangerous after all and Gary knew the risks but this was different. He wasn’t out on the frontlines, wasn’t sneaking around on enemy territory. He was in his own damn bed with the man he loved – the man that made him long for a piece of that white-picked-fence-life they were trying so desperately to protect every day. And the hands he had learned to associate with a gentle caress were now firmly squeezing his neck.

_Simon’s gonna kill me._

Now that thought scared him. Not just because it was Simon – _Simon, his Simon_ – but because he couldn’t even start to imagine what the other would feel like once he came back to his senses, once he found Gary dead.

He couldn’t let that happen, _he_ _couldn’t_ , and his body seemed to agree, filling him with a burst of adrenaline. Gary clenched his fist and with all the strength he could muster he decked Simon straight in the face and for a brief moment, Simon let go, giving Gary the time to take in a greedy gasp of air. He had hoped that the punch would have been enough to stir Simon out of his stupor but it had merely stunned him for a moment.

A punch to the stomach forced all the air Gary had managed to take in right out of his lungs once again and before he could take another gasp, Simon’s fingers returned around his throat.

Gary shuddered, trying to wriggle out of Simon’s grasp, his lungs burning and his eyes starting to tear up.

He tried to speak again, beg Simon to stop, to stop, _to stop, **wake up**_ , _please_ – but he only managed to wheeze, foaming from his mouth.

This was it.

This was it.

_No._

He reached out again. The clock. He reached out and somehow, they must have shifted when Simon had let go of him. Just a little - but enough for Gary to get a grip on the edge of the clock. It wasn’t much but it was hope. He pulled but his fingers felt numb and instead of grabbing the clock he managed to knock it down the nightstand.

Gary cursed himself, arching his back in a fruitless effort to push Simon off.

His ears started to ring and that must have had been the reason why he did not hear the clock fall to the ground but then his fingers grazed the cable and Gary realized that the clock was hanging in the air, suspended by the cable.

Another rush of adrenaline and Gary knew, deep down, that it would be the last. His fingers curled around the cable and he tugged, trying to pull the plug. It didn’t work but he tried again.

Again.

Suddenly, he felt the plug pop out of the socket and with his last strength he flailed the clock right against Simon’s temple and this time his strike hit.

He saw Simon crumple, his body slumping down on the bed next to Gary. He could see his hands go slack and letting go but something wasn’t right.

Gary gasped but his throat felt almost as tight as before. He let go of the clock to claw at his neck but there was nothing but sore skin, yet he still couldn’t breathe.

It should have scared him perhaps, but it merely left him numb and light-headed.

He had tried, didn’t he? He had tried his best.

This was it.

He closed his eyes and opened them again, it didn’t matter, it was just as dark.

The ringing in his ears reached its crescendo.

_“Gary?.. Gary!-“_

Then, silence.


End file.
